


Ownership

by Nicxan



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Collars, Dom/sub, F/M, Female Reader, Leashes, Missionary Position, Not Beta Read, Texting, Vaginal Sex, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: Another night with you and Papa Emeritus II.You, however, planned on being the brattiest brat to ever brat.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus II/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Ownership

**Author's Note:**

> Another for [Banned Together Bingo!](https://bannedtogetherbingo2020.tumblr.com/)!  
> This prompt was 'happy unmarried sex'. 
> 
> This is a _cis, lady, chubby reader_. Please mind that when reading, thank you!  
> (This is the first time I've written Papa II like this so please be gentle.)
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun had just dipped over the horizon -- night would fall soon. The cool breeze wafted through your cracked window, sending a pleasant chill down your spine. You had finished all of your tasks for the day to the best of your ability. As of now, you had nothing to worry about.  
  
You couldn’t say that you’d have a relaxing evening, though. Far from it. And you couldn’t _wait._  
  
Your phone hadn’t gone off for thirty minutes. You kept glancing over at it, willing for your expected message to come through, but nothing. This was part of Papa II’s game -- he’d leave you waiting, hoping, _aching_ with anticipation ... it drove you mad every time. By the time he texted you, you were already desperate and begging.  
  
This time, though, you’d make him pay. You weren’t going to just bend like usual. Instead, you’d be the brattiest submissive you could ever imagine. It would end poorly for you, you knew that already, but his reactions would be absolutely worth it.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before your phone went off. You automatically reached out and opened the message that he had sent to you. Even with your determination to make him work for your obedience, you felt your heart race as you read the text.

> _Emeritus II [9:25 PM]: Good evening, my dear. I hope you remember the instructions I gave you earlier._

> _You [9:27 PM]: I might need a reminder. Don’t want to upset you, after all. :P_

> _Emeritus II [9:28 PM]: Cheeky.  
> _

Fuck. You felt your aching get worse; it was so easy to get swept up in the heat, to just to give yourself over to him. He always made you feel so damn good. You stared at that last message for only a moment, mouth parted ...

> _Emeritus II [9:30 PM]: I want you in my room in thirty minutes. Wear the black lacy lingerie. When you arrive, you will kneel on the cushion on the floor. Is this understood?_

> _You [9:31 PM]: Yes, Papa._

You paused for a moment. Then, you texted him again with a smirk on your face.

> _You [9:32 PM]: You know, I’ve been wondering something. Would calling you ‘father’ turn you on? Or maybe daddy_

> _You [9:32 PM]: Just wondering._

> _You [9:33 PM]: Since I call you Papa and all. :PP_

While being cheeky was fun, he had given his instructions. Part of the fun was being a brat in person -- starting by text was just a good way to warn him what he was in for tonight. You giggled to yourself as you slipped on his favorite bra. Lacy, black ... sensual. It showed off your assets very well. No wonder he loved it so much.  
  
Your phone went off. Instead of responding immediately like he wanted, you took your sweet time slipping on your garter belt. The silk felt so smooth against your skin; you couldn’t help but shiver when you imagined his gloved hands running over it. Getting your hopes up was a bad idea, though. He probably wasn’t going to.  
  
Not unless you behaved.  
  
You only reached for your phone once you had attached the garter to your stockings. They matched with the bra -- something else he enjoyed. A full set, he called it. Something pretty to look at before he ripped it off to get to what he really wanted. And he’d be so _rough_ tearing it off ...  
  
Lucifer below. You swore that only paused for just a second, but it had been a full minute. There was no way you would be able to play these games for too long. He had too much of a hold on you.  
  
Didn’t mean you couldn’t have _some_ fun, though. You were already going to be punished. May as well keep going.

> _Emeritus II [9:35 PM]: Absolutely not._

> _You [9:42PM]: Why not? :P_

> _You [9:42PM]: Papa is okay, but daddy isn’t? You work in mysterious ways, Sir._

> _Emeritus II [9:43 PM]: You’re going to earn yourself a spanking, girl. Don’t test me._

> _You [9:44 PM]: Don’t mean to test, Sir. But that doesn’t sound like a punishment._

> _Emeritus II [9:45 PM]: I’ll make it one. Trust me._

> _Emeritus II [9:46 PM]: Finish getting ready. I’ll see you soon._

No one else could end a conversation like Papa. You stared at the phone, debating on whether to respond, but ... even if you did, he wouldn’t text back. He made his instructions very clear. All you could do was sigh and just finish getting ready. All you had to do was put on your shoes and touch up your makeup a bit. Then you could head over to his room.  
  
You stood in front of the full-body mirror, taking in the sight of yourself just before you put on some blush. You smiled for the first time in a while; your Papa knew exactly what to get to flatter your curves. This lingerie was perfect in literally every way. You had no idea that you’d ever be able to think that before you met him.  
  
He didn’t let you drown in self-hate for your chubbier frame. Your Papa would never let you tear yourself down like that. Your smile softened at every single memory of his blunt -- but flattering -- words, the way he trailed his hands across your body, praising every inch of you as he did so ...  
  
He never claimed to be exclusive with you and marrying him was a hopeless pipe dream. But he still cared for you in a way no one else ever had. You were more than happy to give yourself to him as long as he wanted you to -- and he had told you that he’d want you around for a long time.  
  
It was the highest compliment one of Papa II’s pets could get. Maybe you would even get collared one day. That was the only sign of commitment he showed, and if he wanted you around a long time, maybe the next pet to get a collar would be you.  
  
You couldn’t stop smiling now, even as you put on lipstick. It took a couple of tries to get it just right because of that, but you didn’t even care. Why would you? It’d be perfect for Papa and that’s all that mattered.  
  
9:55. It was time to go where you belonged: on your knees for him. You exhaled shakily and held your head up high. You’d done this many, many times before. No one would look twice; they were used to this.  
  
You quickly grabbed your green satin robe and put it on before rushing out of your room.  
  
Your Papa was waiting for you. 

* * *

His room was empty when you entered. This was to be expected -- still, though, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. You let your robe fall to the floor unceremoniously, then went over to the ever-familiar cushion. It was comfortable and soft; really, that was necessary for how long you had to kneel on it.  
  
You took your place, kneeling on the cushion, hands resting on your thighs. You bowed your head and simply waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
Eventually, your patience was rewarded. The door to Papa’s chambers opened. You weren’t permitted to look up at him, but you could see his polished shoes as he went over to his chair. This was also typical; the anticipation always made for a wonderful kinky night.  
  
You smiled subtly at some fond memories.  
  
Neither of you spoke. Papa liked to make you desperate for him and him ‘ignoring’ you was a part of the dance between you two. Usually, during this time, you almost went into a trance state; eyes shut, breathing in and out slowly, and relaxing your body. It helped you stay calm and collected -- something Papa enjoyed, too.  
  
He liked a challenge sometimes.  
  
Your Papa’s voice broke through the silence. “Have you finished acting out?” he asked. He almost sounded amused, but you knew better. It was an unspoken challenge to snark at him further.  
  
You didn’t respond. Not right away, at least. Every remark from you had to be just perfect or he’d turn it around on you. You bit your lip in a show of submission, still not looking up at him.  
  
“Good,” Papa muttered. “As a punishment for your behavior, you’re going to be kneeling there for quite some time. Get comfortable.”  
  
You couldn’t make this smirk subtle. You tried, you really did, but you didn’t have any luck.  
  
“Yes, daddy.”  
  
The sound Papa II made almost made you laugh too. You dared to glance up at him, just enough to see a wide smirk on his face. Hopefully you managed to avert your gaze in time.  
  
“Cheeky,” he said again. You heard the newspaper pages rustle, and knew you were in this for the long haul. “I’m apparently going to have to spank that attitude out of you, girl. I meant what I said.”  
  
“I know you did.” You bit your tongue to control your giggles. “I’m still looking forward to it.”  
  
“Then maybe I’ll think of something else,” Papa quipped back. “I have a wealth of punishments for disobedient little pets.”  
  
“Oh, muzzle me, Papa.” You let out a titter. “I know I’ve been bad.”  
  
“I could,” he began. He turned a page of his newspaper. “Or I could just make it so you don’t come tonight.”  
  
Your heart seized. Every part of you immediately regretted all the snarky behavior you showed tonight, and you had half a mind to beg for forgiveness. This was his most severe punishment for you -- leaving you aching, soaked, desperate for release, only for him to do it the next week or so instead. Granted, it made it more intense, but ... fuck, you already worked yourself up to a ridiculous degree.  
  
Maybe ... no! You swore you’d be the brattiest brat alive tonight. You weren’t going to bend that easily. Surely Papa expected you -- you’d turn it on his head.  
  
“Do that and I won’t be able to keep quiet next week.” You were in deep shit already; what would looking up at him do? Make it worse? No possible way for him to do that if he wasn’t going to let you come tonight. “Sure you want to risk that? I think Alpha wanted to kill us.”  
  
“Maybe I _should_ muzzle you. It would keep you quiet.”  
  
“Hot.”  
  
Papa laughed this time, deep and earnest. He didn’t move from his spot as you hoped he would, but instead just flicked through another page. ‘At least he’s reading faster than usual,’ you thought. That had to be a sign of something, right?  
  
He didn’t rise to your bait that time, though. With nothing to work with, you let yourself go quiet again and let him get back to reading the damned paper. If you kept interrupting him, he’d take even longer just to spite you.  
  
Papa was funny like that.  
  
It felt like an eternity before he finally rolled it up and put it back down. You quickly bowed your head again, but you were just a bit too late.  
  
“Head up, too. You really are bad tonight,” Papa murmured. “I’ll have to remind you who’s in control here.”  
  
“Give me a reminder, then.” Now that you were busted, you went ahead and looked at him directly. That might have been more impactful if he hadn’t been wearing his shades. “Show me who owns me.”  
  
You almost regretted those words until you saw him walking over. He dipped his sunglasses down with one hand, meeting your gaze with a steely stare. You noticed the glint of amusement in his eyes and the very, _very_ slight upturn of his lips.  
  
Apparently, you had satisfied his need for a challenge.  
  
“Remember that you asked for this,” Papa said. He gestured for you to stand; you did without hesitation. He took a step closer, then fished in his pocket for ... something.  
  
Your heart fluttered when you saw the leather collar. It was extravagant. Small stones lined the top and bottom, wrapping around the entire collar. It shone beautifully and nearly took your breath away. You couldn’t help but notice the ‘II’ on the front of it, nor could you ignore the hoop on the back of it.  
  
You knew what that was for.  
  
“You are my pet, and as such, you need one of these,” he explained with a chuckle. “Come here.”  
  
You didn’t.  
  
Papa II raised an eyebrow and gestured for you to move towards him.  
  
You still didn’t move. You only smiled playfully, hands clasped together in front of you, looking as subservient as ever.  
  
“Girl, you are trying my patience. Come here. _Now_.”  
  
That tone wasn’t something to mess with -- when he pulled out the dom voice, you obeyed. It was almost an immediate reaction. You stepped forward obediently, head bowed, and with a smile. You stopped before him, within arm’s length, so that he could collar you.  
  
He’d only done this to a few of his pets. To be considered one of his long-term playthings ... your heart soared. This was a high honor; you wanted to make him proud.  
  
When he put on the collar, it felt smooth around your neck. It slid on so easily, so perfectly -- it’s almost like it was custom-made just for you. Knowing your Papa, it most likely was. You reached up to touch the collar, brushing a thumb against one of the many stones that adorned it.  
  
“You’re mine,” Papa whispered. “And you will always be mine. Is that understood?”  
  
“Yes, Papa,” you breathed out. You couldn’t help it -- you tilted your head up to look at him adoringly, a dopey grin on your face. The adrenaline rush had hit its peak -- just the idea of being collared had made you grin like an idiot, but now it was actually _on you._ You’d pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming if you could.  
  
“Now.” Papa reached around you and slapped your ass hard. You yelped in delight. “Get your pretty ass to bed. You may have a collar, but you still need to be punished for your behavior.”  
  
“Yes, Papa!” You giggled and rushed over to your favorite spot in the room. You pushed aside the curtains surrounding the bed and assumed your usual position -- head resting on the pillows, lying on your back, body on full display for him. Much to your displeasure, he didn’t climb on immediately after you. Instead, he seemed to be ... oh.  
  
Oh, he was taking his gloves off.  
  
You exhaled softly, already imagining the sting on your bottom and the redness and how hard it would be to sit down the next day --  
  
“I’m not going to spank you,” he said, immediately dashing your hopes and dreams. “I know how badly you want that. No, I’m going to be doing something else.”  
  
The sight of him crawling onto the bed with you would never get old. There was always a predatory glint in his eye, you could see a tent in his pants, and yet ... he was so controlled. He didn’t scramble to join you. He didn’t even breathe shakily. Calm, cool, collected.  
  
Even when he wanted you this badly, he exuded sheer dominance. And that only made you wetter.  
  
“I want to see if you’ll behave before I put the handcuffs on you,” he said casually. “Hands above your head. Hold the bed if you must. But you’re not to move under any circumstances. Is that understood, pet?”  
  
“Yes, Papa.”  
  
You did as instructed, dread and anticipating building all at once. You only had a vague idea of what this punishment was -- but it was a severe one. It had to be, since he had never done this to you before. He definitely wasn’t going to let you come unless you were perfectly behaved for the rest of the night.  
  
At least you got him to laugh while being a brat, though. You took solace in that.  
  
You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to stay perfectly still while he had his way with you. At least, that’s what you assumed would happen. Much to your surprise, he only brushed his bare fingers against your thigh. It was a feather touch, barely there. Was this really it? How was this severe?  
  
He grazed against the lacy frills of your panties, trailing down to the inner thigh -- and then pulled his hand away. He followed suit with similar touches all over your body. A gentle touch on your side. Fingers grazing against the curve of your breasts, against the edge of your bra. Each little movement felt unbelievably tantalizing, and it soon became a struggle to stay still as instructed. You did, though.  
  
You didn’t want him to stop.  
  
Papa’s teasing made you shiver, but you didn’t move. They made you pant and whimper, desperate for more and more -- but you clenched the head of the bed tighter to stop yourself from squirming. Lucifer below, you were desperate for him to touch your absolutely dripping cunt, but that was the one part he completely avoided. You’re sure that you soaked through your panties by now.  
  
“Please ...” you whined. “Please, Papa --”  
  
He cut you off. “Not yet. You need to be punished. Remember?”  
  
“Yes, Sir ...” You accepted defeat. Really, you couldn’t deny that you absolutely deserved it. _‘Worth it, though,’_ you thought as you suffered more of his teasing. Papa touched nearly every inch of your body, save for the one spot you wanted him to touch most. You bit your tongue to keep quiet.  
  
 _‘Please, please touch my cunt.’_ You hoped that if you thought it hard enough, that he’d just pick up on it somehow. _‘Please!’_  
  
He didn’t. He cupped your breasts, kneading them in his hands, brushing his fingers under the bra and across your nipples -- the sudden roughness made you cry out. You had to fight the urge to arch your back into his touch. Fuck, you needed more, you needed so much more --  
  
“Who do you belong to?” he asked.  
  
Your response was automatic. “You, Papa!” you cried out. “You! Always you!”  
  
No one else could touch you like this. No one else could absolutely drive you crazy with the lightest of teasing. No one else could totally own you the way your Papa did. You knew this already, but admitting it to him just made you that much hotter for him.  
  
“Good,” Papa growled. His growls and snarls always sent a shiver down your spine and this was no exception. You let out a little helpless gasp, eyes fluttering as he continued to manhandle your breasts relentlessly. He paused only to reach behind you, unclasping your bra with his expert hands, and pushing it up.  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
He didn’t respond to you -- he only pinched and twisted your nipples as hard as he could, making you moan in utter pleasure. You’re not sure when you started panting like a bitch in heat, but you had. Fuck, it all felt so good, so good -- and fuck, you were so wet and hot and desperate --  
  
“Yes! _Yes_ !” you babbled mindlessly. Nothing mattered except his hands, his snarls, the way he pressed his hard cock up against your thigh just to drive you wild -- “Papa!”  
  
“Louder,” he rasped.  
  
“ _Papa_!”  
  
“On your stomach.” It was a simple command. You obeyed, flipping to lay on your stomach. You had no idea what to expect, which only made you that much more excited. You still didn’t move more than necessary, however; he didn’t say you could.  
  
You waited patiently, even though the small agony that was him getting off of the bed. You didn’t dare shift around to look. It seemed like an eternity before he returned; you never imagined a mattress moving could bring you so much joy.  
  
Then, there was a click from behind you. It sounded close to the back of your head.  
  
You realized what it was just before Papa yanked you backwards, causing you to yelp in surprise. _‘A leash--!’_ Fuck, that was hot. You craned your neck to the best of your ability, just for a chance to glance at Papa. You just wanted to see him holding that leash, even just for a second.  
  
The angle wasn’t quite good enough; you only got a glimpse. But that glimpse was more than enough. You whimpered pathetically and it took a considerable amount of effort to stay still outside of what he did to you.  
  
Papa’s breath on your ear nearly sent you into a frenzy.  
  
“I could fuck you,” he whispered to you. “I could hold you in place, control you with this leash, and use you as a toy.”  
  
You audibly groaned at the mere idea of it.  
  
“Do you want that?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“How badly?” he growled.  
  
“More than anything, please!”  
  
He chuckled deeply and yanked you to the side; you followed along with his unspoken command and rested on your knees. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting eagerly for him to pull you around more, but nothing happened. You heard some rattling, a bit of a clink here and there, but ... nothing.  
  
When you opened your eyes, you noticed that the long leash was tied to one of the poles supporting the curtains. You were effectively trapped, forced to accept whatever Papa wished to do to you. To you, that was damned hot.  
  
“Now that you’re put in your place,” Papa purred, “I think I’ll use you how _I_ want to use you.” He kneeled on the bed right in front of you, giving you an amazing view of his body. He had unbuttoned his vest at some point and cast it aside, leaving him in just his white undershirt and black slacks.  
  
That tent. You couldn’t look away from his crotch; he just looked so damn _good_. You knew that he got hard because of _you_ \-- that he was craving _you_. You could nearly feel your mouth water just looking at what undoubtedly was his hard cock.  
  
He unzipped his slacks and you definitely felt your mouth water. The silk black boxers underneath were quickly pulled down with the slacks, leaving you staring at his thick, hard cock. It stood proudly, throbbing and twitching with utter need.  
  
 _Fuck_ , you needed it.  
  
He tossed aside his clothes casually, not caring where they landed. Once he sat down and spread his legs, you knew exactly what to do. It was part of the dance.  
  
“Please, Papa, can I suck it?” you pleaded. “Please!”  
  
“Get over here and suck it, girl.”  
  
Those words never sounded sweeter to you than they did just then. You crawled forward, looking as sultry as humanly possible while doing so. Every instinct screamed for you to just take him into your mouth and deepthroat him immediately, but you knew Papa better than that.  
  
He wanted a show. You’d give him one.  
  
You started slow -- kissing the tip of his cock, running your tongue along the head. Not much of a reaction, but that was okay. Papa could control himself well -- but you knew just how to get him grunting in pleasure.  
You’d worship his cock just how he liked it.  
  
One hand rested on his inner thigh, and the other caressed his balls. You rolled them in just the right way; you could tell from the quiet little sigh you managed to hear. You ran your tongue across the underside of his cock, base to tip, and then took him into your mouth.  
  
There was a certain rhythm Papa liked -- you had it memorized at this point. Start slow, gradually taking more and more in. Don’t immediately take his whole length: start small. Use tongue, swirling around his cock, licking his slit now and again at random just to make him gasp.  
  
You licked the slit of his cock. He gasped, just as you expected. Papa’s hand grasped your hair tightly, nearly pulling it. He showed just enough restraint to make it not hurt, nor did he force his cock down your throat. He let you take the reins in this case, knowing that you’d please him.  
  
You hummed pleasantly around his cock, pleased when you realized that half of him was in your mouth. The vibrations would leave him trembling, you were sure of it.  
  
And they did.  
  
“Fuck, that’s good ... good pet ...”  
  
You internally grinned at his high praise, and were not surprised when you felt his hand on the back of your head again. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing you down so you’d take more of his cock in your mouth. You took a deep breath in through your nose and let it happen; suppressing the gag reflex was a trick you had learned years ago.  
  
You both stayed there for a few minutes; you breathing in and out through your nose, Papa snarling and panting heavily. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth a few times -- surely he was going to come in your mouth. You’d feel it hit the back of your throat, and you’d swallow every last drop greedily ...  
  
Much to your surprise, he pulled out of your mouth. Papa’s breaths were ragged and haggard, uncharacteristic of him. You smiled to yourself, knowing that this was usually what happened when he summoned you to his room.  
  
“Fuck it,” he rasped. “You performed well. I’ll fuck that cunt of yours. Lay down.”  
  
Once again, it was music to your ears. “Yes, Papa!” You had to maneuver around the leash binding you to the bed, but you happily nestled against the pillows, on your back, and spread your legs. The panties were in the way still, but you knew your Papa would take care of that soon.  
  
Just knowing that he was going to fuck you made you infinitely more patient than you had been before. You could wait for eons now, knowing that you’d be rewarded for it.  
  
The tips of his fingers hooked the edge of your panties and you lifted your legs to help him get them off. You even got to lift your hips, thrusting forward so subtly that you’re not sure if he even noticed it. You didn’t care, though. Nothing else mattered.  
  
Your Papa was going to fuck you.  
  
Papa grabbed your legs and pulled them apart even further, giving him easy access to your dripping cunt. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock brushing up against your slit.  
  
“Beg for it. Beg for your Papa.”  
  
“Please! Please, please, _please_ fuck me, I need it, I’ve needed it so bad!” You clutched at his shoulders, readying yourself for the inevitable. “I’ve wanted you all night!”  
  
“That’s what I thought, pet.” Papa laughed, sending another violent shiver down your spine. “You can put on whatever act you want, but you know that you belong to me.”  
  
With that, he plunged deep inside of you.  
  
Papa never pulled punches -- when he fucked, he fucked _hard_ . He thrust in and out of you at a breakneck pace, and the sheer pleasure from it left you seeing stars. You dug your nails into his shoulders to steady yourself, and then simply coasted on the unbelievable bliss that your Papa gave you.  
  
Sometimes, he pulled your hair. Sometimes, he bit down and left hickeys all across your neck and chest. Both were reminders of the ownership that he had over you, and you mewled with delight every time he decided to mark you. You’d look at yourself the next day, absolutely covered in bite marks and those hickeys, and want him even more.  
  
“Fuck yeah -- that’s -- good --”  
  
“Papa, yes!”  
  
Papa let out a guttural growl, thrusting harder inside of you; you gasped sharply, then moaned as you pulled him down closer to you. You needed to feel him against you, to have him close -- he felt so damned good against your body like this, and he knew it too.  
  
The more he fucked you, the closer and closer to the edge you got. You could feel yourself hitting the point of no return, like you were about to tumble off of a very high cliff. You were close -- so close! -- but you couldn’t let yourself fall off that cliff. Not yet.  
  
He hadn’t given you permission yet.  
  
All of your focus went into keeping yourself from coming. You shut your eyes, tried to steady your breaths, but all of it was impossible when Papa pushed in and out of you like this. His cock fit your cunt so perfectly; you couldn’t imagine a better fuck than him and he knew you so well. He knew how to tease, how to thrust, how to talk to you -- it was perfect.  
  
He was perfect for you.  
  
Fuck, you’d gotten distracted.  
  
“Not yet,” he snarled. He must have heard your pitiful mewls and desperate little cries.  
  
You only nodded; it was the most you could do. You feared that if you spoke, you’d break. All you could do was whimper, taking in every sensation you could. The smell of his cologne, the sounds of his grunts and the taste of blood from you biting your lower lip just a bit too hard.  
  
Finally -- _finally_ \-- you felt his cock throb. Before he could even utter a word, Papa came. He pushed his cock in as far as he could, groaning as he emptied himself inside of you. Even as you shivered and shook beneath him, you still behaved.  
  
You wouldn’t come until he told you to, even though you had been on the edge for several minutes. You clutched at your Papa desperately, shaking from the effort it took to stay there.  
  
“You can come now.”  
  
It was like a switch had been flipped. The moment he said the words, you let go and toppled off of the cliff.  
  
Your orgasm came to you almost instantaneously -- one little nipple tweak from Papa is what did it. You bucked and screamed beneath him, totally consumed by the pleasure he had given you. You’re not sure how long it went on for, nor did you care. All you cared about was that unbelievable bliss.  
  
You can’t say that bliss faded completely; sure, you came back down to Earth, but your Papa was still there on top of you and inside you. He stroked your hair, smirking at himself in pride as he always did.  
  
“Now.” A part of you loved that word; it meant he would be pampering you for the rest of the night. The other part of you knew that it meant he’d be pulling out of you, and you hated that. Regardless, you let him. You loosened your vice grip on your Papa and let him climb off of you.  
  
The first thing he did was undo the leash from the collar. He kept it tied to the bed, though. You glanced over at it and giggled.  
  
“That was a lot hotter than I thought it would be,” you admitted. “You know me too well.”  
  
“I do. I’ll draw a bath for the both of us.” Papa hesitated, then stroked your hair one more time before almost rolling off of the bed. You wouldn’t lie; you absolutely watched his ass while he walked to his connected bathroom.  
  
You smiled dopily before grabbing the nearest pillow to cuddle. You’d follow him in a moment. Right now, you just wanted to bask in the endorphin rush.  
  
It was risky to say that you loved him, but at the very least, you loved this arrangement.  
  
You know he did, too.


End file.
